Her Mixtape (Extended Version), Stranger Things

𝖝𝖛. Blue and Green

Rue never cried in front of Mike, and she held back her tears as she ran into Jonathan Byers while she tried to leave the house in her frenzy. He stopped her, holding onto her shoulders and frowning, and asked if she was okay. Jonathan Byers had a strange way with words, a comforting rasp in his voice, and deer eyes that saw into your soul. Max thought it was terrifying to have someone care so much; to see through you to the point you're so exposed; to actually treat you like a little sister.

If only Rue had known how lucky she was to have Jonathan in her life. But instead, she looked away from him, refusing to meet his pleading eyes, and shrugged his arms off her shoulders like a brat.

Rue told him she was fine; she had a headache and wanted to go home. Max realized at the moment how easily lying came to Rue. She was a master at it; not one tick, stutter, flinch, or tell told anyone that she wasn't honest.

Jonathan offered to take her home.

Rue said she'd rather walk; her house was two blocks away anyway.

Rue didn't know that Jonathan meant to take her to another home. His home. A home where Joyce Byers and Bob Newby waited for their kids to return so they could watch the dumb movies Bob picked and eat so much candy that they'd feel sick.

She started to cry the second she stepped off Mike Wheeler's street. Turning the corner, she shut her eyes tightly and stopped moving, dropping her head to stare at her feet as tears started to roll down her cheeks.

Max was silent the entire time, following Rue like a shadow, not knowing what to say. Her voice never came to her until she was on the steps of Rue's house, watching her unlock the front door. It was impulsive; Max never knew what to do whenever someone cried.

"Christ, that guy's got a stick up his ass, huh?"

A soft puff of air comes out of Rue's mouth: the saddest excuse of a laugh Max has ever heard. She tries again because that breath of air is something, and if Rue was about to sulk the entire night, she might as well go home.

"I'm serious," she says, stepping into the house once Rue swings the door open and flicks on the lights. "I'm so sick of his whining and moaning. For fuck's sake. He's literally the most annoying guy I've ever met in my entire life. I bet his little sister has fewer trantrums than he does."

It's another joke thrown into the air. Rue doesn't laugh at it, though. She probably didn't even hear it, dropping her bag on the kitchen island and wiping her face with the bell sleeves of her dress. Rue lets out another low sigh, her lower lip quivering and frowning as if she's about to start crying all over again.

Max considers going home.

The sound of the fridge slamming shut tears Max away from her thoughts. She watches Rue move around the kitchen, tossing a bowl of strawberries on the counter carelessly.

Max furrows her brows, hesitantly stepping closer. "You... you don't actually believe anything Mike said, right?"

Rue glances at her. Well, she actually doesn't even look up from the strawberries, Max only wishes Rue would look at her. But instead, she grumbled something, picking at the stem of the fruit. "It's... whatever... don't care."

"You sure?"

There's a beat, then she grumbles again, lazily nodding. "Hmm."

Max makes a noise of disbelief as she inches her way closer to the counter. She leans on it, her weight on her elbows. She's about to argue. "Maybe you do."

"I don't.

She is aware she shouldn't do this. Max should stop trying to step into territories she's never entered before. After considering it, Max purses her lips, nodding slowly. She reaches across the counter, takes a strawberry, and throws caution to the wind.